Companions In Many Journeys
by ataralassie-and-ramble40
Summary: This is a joint effort between two authors, ataralassie and ramble40, to tell the story of a young Nerdanel and Fëanor and how they met.
1. Chapter 1

Stories passed between the students who studied under master Rúmil. The Lambengolmo kept a good library, what more could be said? _Of course_ his students would pass along some of the more interesting tales they read in his books. Tales grow. They change, especially on the tongues of excitable young loremasters-to-be. Scribe-work was dull after all, and when Rúmil left the room, they had to keep themselves entertained _somehow_. So whispers passed between them as their pens scratched across the parchment in the candle-lit room.

_"I read that in the deepest depths of Orom__ë's forests there lives a kind of beast he only allows his best huntsmen to hunt. A deer, but pure white with a single horn growing from it's head. It's larger than a normal dear- fiercer too. The horn has certain properties though. Apparently if it's powdered it can be used as a love charm. Finon has some, apparently. He's told me his cousin brought back the horn after..."_

Finon kept a vial of powdered pearl around his neck and was one of the biggest braggarts in Tirion. If Oromë kept such beasts was immaterial. Only a fool would believe anything out of Finon's mouth.

_"Alassië tells me that she has been reading of the fates of the Quendi who died before the Valar found us and brought us to Aman. Well you know how it was, far more dangerous there than it was here. She says that there were some who remained with their families, who even came with them During the Great Journey and still haunt them to this day..."_

Was it not said that such unhoused fëar had fallen under the influence of Melkor? It seemed rather foolhardy then, to come into the realm of your enemy where they were at their most powerful. Of course, if Alassië had not just been picking and choosing which bits of lore made the best story to _her..._

_"I heard that there was a cavern __deep within Oromë's forests, and within that cavern there is a pool. It's depths are such that it's pure black, but when a light is shown over it, it acts as a mirror. I've heard that you can peer into this pool, and if you look hard enough you can see into Mandos..."_

_ The most foolish of the tales told. Honestly, were they training to be loremasters, or the writer's of Tirion's latest melodrama? _

_ Still..._

Tales came from somewhere. There might have been a pool in some cave somewhere. And anything that gave birth to such a ludicrous story had to be interesting at the least.

* * *

The air was thick, made to feel all the heavier for the darkness that surrounded him. Fëanáro eyed the flickering torchlight that he carried with him warily. It would burn out soon enough, flames needed fuel to burn and when that ran out...Well, finding his way out of here in the dark would hardly make matters _simpler_.

Eru, but he should hope he would be out of this void-damned place by then. His sense of direction wasn't _that_ bad after all.

_You might've marked your path, however, oh noble explorer._

Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, Fëanáro edged his way through the darkness, feeling along the walls of the cavern. The air smelled of water, and goosebumps rose on his flesh as the temperature suddenly dropped. He had to be getting close at least, then. Well. His trip wouldn't have been utterly _pointless_, even if he did end up wandering these caverns for eternity, until eventually starving to death. There was _that_ one little bright spot to look upon.

Fëanáro gave a bitter smirk at the thought.

The torchlight flickered again, crackling, sparking. Shadows lengthened, creeping in on the elf as his eyes shot to the light. _Do not go out on me. Do **not** go out on me._ His nails dug into his palms, knuckles turning white as he willed the flames to stay lit.

The flames stabilized. Fëanáro let out the breath he just realized he was holding, and continued on.

His footsteps were one of the few things he could hear in this place. The sound of his own breathing. The constant drip of water from stalagtights. His vision provided little better variety. A black void stretched before him, only interrupted by what little of the ground and walls were lit and stained red by the fire of his torch.

And then...something else? Fëanáro's brows drew together and he stopped in his tracks. He turned around, sure he'd heard another pair of footsteps behind him, but...

_No one_

His mind must have been playing tricks on him. Reaching out for some other sound, anything in this near perfect sensory isolation. Shaking his head, he turned around and walked on.

And then he heard it again.

_Ilúvatar in Ëa!_ No, better if he ignored it. To acknowledge that it was real would be just another step towards madness. Fëanáro set his gaze straight ahead and kept walking on, ignoring the sounds.

That was becoming more difficult as they grew louder.

Yes, they were definitely footsteps, he was sure of it now. It was becoming too much to ignore.

He spun around on his heel, light flickering at the sudden movement. Fëanáro ignored it.

Before him stood a nís, perhaps somewhere around his own age. Ordinary looking, rather plain really, he noted as his eyes traveled over her form, but dressed practically. Her clothes were of a thick material, made for getting dirty and caught in brambles. Of course, considering she was down _here_ of all places that was hardly a surprise.

"Another one out looking for ghosts then?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow and leaning up against the wall next to him, "Or did you happen to take a wrong turn somewhere? I'm fairy certain the way out is behind us." He drawled, gesturing in the direction they had both come from.


	2. Chapter 2

This is a joint effort between two different authors to bring two different perspectives to the meeting of two very important people. Reviews are always welcome!

We own nothing.

* * *

~oOo~

Nerdanel walked slowly up to the mare before her, hand extended as she made soothing sounds. The mare simply stared at her, ears twitching and snorting lightly. Curious, she thought as the mare nuzzled her hand. She pulled out and apple that the mare swept up in one bite and scratched her under the chin.

"And who left you out here on your own eh?" she muttered as she looked around.

She walked over to the cave entrance. It stretched across several feet but it was low and you had to stoop down to enter and then carefully slide down to the cavern floor. This was one of the deeper caverns, dark and maze like and one could become easily lost, especially if inexperienced. She looked for a rope or marker of some kind and saw nothing. Surely someone would not be foolish enough to enter without some sort of tie line to guide them out. But the tracks that milled about in front of the cavern entrance said otherwise. And as she knelt down she could hear the distinct sounds of life from within the dark. Nerdanel stood back up and considered the mouth of the cave. It was very easy for one to become lost in there, even when within several feet of the entrance. The cavern could twist and wind, disorienting even the most experienced. And this fool went in with no tie line what so ever. The mare gave a little snort from behind her.

She should just leave.

She had not intended to come out this way, having decided on another path when she had first set out. She had intended to travel to the Bay of Eldamar and make for the southernmost point, where she would spend her days traveling along the coast with her sketch book. But she had turned instead, to the west. A sudden longing to acquire some of the rose quartz that lined the caverns deep within the hills of Oromë's woods. So she cut through the mountain pass till she came to the hills and caves, and found herself here. Feeding apples to a horse.

She really should just leave.

Nerdanel stood there for a moment; one hand rubbing the back of her neck while the other rested on her hip and sighed.

She walked over to her pack and pulled out three good sized spools of string. Two she placed into a small satchel while the other one she took and tied one end around a small shrub and the other end around her wrist. She then threw the satchel over her shoulder and shimmied down the cavern entrance.

She wandered carefully through the cavern, trying not to touch any of the formations so as not to damage the life that grew there. She perhaps it was too much to hope that whoever fumbled around in the dark here did the same, but she hoped anyway.

These caves were tricky and every so often she would check the string to make sure it was still taut and held. As she pushed on she heard noises and thought she could see the soft flicker of torch light ahead, but then it would disappear and she was left questioning what she had seen. The path would become wide then narrow and once or twice she would have to bend to hands and knees as she crawled through. But as she stood up from the last narrow passage she caught sight of torchlight again and this time there was no question. She quickened her pace till she finally came up behind someone. A nér it seemed to her and when he spun around her suspicions were confirmed. He seemed tall, although within the dimly lit cave it was hard to tell, and quite pretty to look at. But then he spoke.

"Another one out looking for ghosts then?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow and leaning up against the wall next to him, "Or did you happen to take a wrong turn somewhere? I'm fairly certain the way out is behind us." He drawled, gesturing in the direction they had both come from.

She cocked an eyebrow at him and gave him a droll look. As if he had any idea as where he had come from. Just by looking at his clothes she could tell he had been here wandering for some time. The knees to his breeches were damp and torn and his torch struggled to stay lit. Her head tilted slightly as she spoke.

"Well, since you seem to know the way I will leave you to it," she turned and began to head back out the way she came.

"Just a moment-" He cut himself off, giving a frustrated sigh. soon enough she could hear his footsteps behind her. He sounded reluctant as he next spoke, cursing under his breath before finally going on, "You...wouldn't happen to actually know the way out of this Eru-damned place, would you?"

Nerdanel stopped and turned slowly back towards him, a little half smile played on her face.

"Well come along then," she said over her shoulder. "Let me know if you should need me to hold your hand," she called out.

She pulled on the string and began tracing her steps out, snaking through the narrow passages. Every so often she would look behind her to make sure her little tag-a-long was still keeping up. There were a couple of times where she had to slow their pace and help him along, he not being quite as narrow as she, but she was stronger than she looked and was able to grab onto his hand and pull him along. She only stopped once to pry a piece of quartz out of some clay near the entrance, and finding him almost useful as he aided her in digging out the piece about the size of her fist. He listened carefully as she showed how to dig with out touching or disturbing the cavern walls around them, explaining how contact with there skin would blacken the walls, killing the tiny living organisms that cannot be seen with their naked eyes. He was attentive and interested and Nerdanel had to admit a certain amount of pleasure at his enthusiasm.

They crawled out from the mouth of the cave and back into the light. The little mare snorted and shook her head upon their emergence and Nerdanel walked up to her to give her another fruit from her bag before turning around.

"I am impressed," she called over her shoulder, "most would have frozen in fear upon realizing they are lost in these caverns. You must have the luck of the Valar with you indeed." She turned then to look at her cave dweller and slowly came to a halt as she looked upon his face. Not just any lost and careless nér this. She recognized him almost immediately. And who could not. He was said to be mightiest in all parts of body and mind, in endurance, in beauty, in understanding, in skill, in strength and subtlety alike and on and on the list went. He was also said to be the center of much of the drama in Tirion.

Curufinwé Féanáro. Son of the High King Finwé. High Prince of the Noldor.

And atar's apprentice.

Nerdanel doubted he would remember her. He had never really paid her much mind. No one ever really did for she was seen as to young to be of any interest. But she had seen him. Studying him as he worked. It was something she had always done, studying people. She found gestures and movements fascinating, all of the subtleties of others. And the little prince here was full of them. She stared at him now in that same way she would when he was working and had to stop herself from falling into that habit, for now he stood before her with no forge for distraction.

The mare nudged Nerdanel with her nose as if to say be quick about it and Nerdanel snapped back to attention. But found that she suddenly did not have much to say.

"What in the name of Eä are you doing out here?" she asked.


	3. Chapter 3

In the flickering light of the fire, Fëanáro could see the smile playing across the nís's features as she glanced back to him. His humor was not nearly so good as all that. Narrowing his eyes, he gave a low grunt as she called back over her shoulder at him and snapped his gaze away to trace along the walls of the cave, wetly glowing red and orange in the light of the fire.

"_Let me know if you should need me to hold your hand."_

The words were enough for Fëanáro to snap his gaze back to her, eyes flashing, the nails on his free hand digging deep into his palm. She'd already turned though, following the guideline she'd left for herself back out. He had to literally bite his tongue to keep himself from grumbling to himself as he followed her.

Perhaps if he hadn't been lost down here all morning..._Perhaps_ if he had not had to even admit it in order to get out of here...Perhaps then her teasing would not have mattered as much. But, Eru! He was Curufinwë Fëanáro! The High Price, and certainly possessing a _reputation_ enough for genius that finding himself directionless in the middle of some void-blasted cavern should _not_ have happened.

Hot shame and anger licked like flames at him from within, and Fëanáro could feel the tips of his ears reddening. Thank Eru it was dark down here. Thank Eru she was turned away.

With a few- alright, _several_- deep breaths he managed to calm himself somewhat, banishing the shame, at least, for now. The girl led him back through the paths they'd come here through, slowing only when the cavern walls narrowed, and Fëanáro had to work his way through. And there were times when she had to help him through, pulling him along. Her hands were calloused, rougher those of the ladies he interacted with in Tirion or even the scholars he met working under Master Rúmil. More like...

He paused in his steps as the idea occurred to him, eyebrows raising as he watched her, but only for a moment. More like a smith's hands. _Now who have I run across down here..._ he wondered.

When they stopped near the entrance- she found a chunk of quartz sticking out of the ground that she wanted- his suspicions were only lended more credence. He knelt down next to her, the dirt and mud of the cavern floor cool against his knees, and helped her to dig it out. He was too happy to listen to her as she explained what to do, knowledgeable as she seemed.

Despite himself, he even felt the beginnings of a smile begin to tug at his lips.

Finally they managed to make they way back out into the light of day. Fëanáro squinted against the sudden brightness, shaking his head as his eyes adjusted to the light. He ground his torch out in the dirt outside the cave, blinked again- Ai, had Laurelin always been so harsh?- and then began sauntering over towards his horse.

Th palfrey's fur glistened an inky black in the dappled sunlight. The girl was already by her side, feeding her from her pack. Fëanáro's eyes caught on the girl as she called back to him. He _knew_ her! At least in passing, if not in name. Mahtan's daughter. How could he not recognize her, seeing how the sunlight caught in her hair, lighting it aflame? She watched him work sometimes. Well, he'd felt her eyes on him at least. He usually paid her little mind, however, more caught up in his projects. He had been right though, at least partially. A sculptor more than a smith if he remembered what his Mentor said about her rightly.

And now, as she turned back to face him she seemed to recognize him.

Fëanáro smirked to himself, slipping the torch back on it's place in his horse's saddle. He waved off her question, his attention turned to his horse as he edged forward slightly, rubbing down her neck. After a moment's silence he finally turned to the girl. "_Most_ would find now an apt time to introduce themselves, as you've apparently seen fit to do for Narcolissë, here." Fëanáro replied, his tone dry. He shook his head, turning back to the horse, "At least _you_ seem to be making friends." he muttered.

_That would be due to the fact that the horse is friendlier_, thought Nerdanel. She still stared at him in disbelief, her mouth thinned a little as her eyes narrowed at him. She openly looked him up and down, still in shock in finding him out here.

"Nerdanel," she said abruptly, "you still have not answered my question."

"A pleasure." Fëanáro replied, still ignoring her words for the moment, "judging by the way you continue to stare at me I'll assume I'll have no need to introduce myself?" That same smirk still touching his lips, though it faded a bit now. He shook his head and turned back to Nerdanel. For a moment he just looked _her _up and down, before quirking an eyebrow. "I am here because I want to be, I really do not see why I should need a better reason." _I do not see why **you** should need a better__ reason, _he meant, not wanting to get into the fact that he'd been out here chasing down fairy stories in the first place.

Sighing, his gaze drifted back towards the surrounding area again. Bright as everything seemed before, he could now see the streaks of silver light beginning to intermingle with the gold. Lovely. He hadn't expected to take this long.

"If we started back now," He said, more thinking aloud than anything, "how far do you think we'd make it before it got too late?"

"Ha!" she laughed outloud now. There was that mouth she had heard so much about. "You need an escort home as well little prince? I am afraid you will have to find someone else for that task for I have no intention of going back anywhere, unless it is back to the mountains and along the shores." She shook her head and looked to the sky for a moment. It seems he was right though, the mingling was upon them and it would be pointless to go further. She turned back to him now, with a hand on her hip considered him once again. _This could be interesting,_ she thought.

"I will be camping here it seems for time has gotten away from me for some reason." She paused there for several seconds, the hint of a small sideways smile played upon her mouth and her eyes were lit with mirth. "Oh, you can join me if you wish," she finally said.

Fëanáro slowly turned back to face Nerdanel, reguarding her with almost thoughtfully for several long moments. She had spirit to her, didn't she now? That wasn't so bad a thing. His lips curled into a smile. "Well, as you were so _kind_ to offer..." He reached back, unlatching his bedroll from Narcolissë's saddle without even looking.

Nerdanel laughed again and turned to settle her own bedroll. After short time a fire was going and they sat across from each other talking of the mountains and seas and of lands that were said to lay beyond. She could not help but notice how he spoke fervor about the latter of the two. She smiled and leaned back against her bedroll, happy to let him talk. And even happier to interject with teasing comments of her own. So far she had found him to be quite pleasant company.

And quite pleasant to look at as well.


End file.
